Testing the Strong Ones
by Ad Tempus
Summary: JT died, and now everyone is left behind to deal with it. I'm bad with summaries.
1. Tesing the Strong Ones

Title: Testing the Strong Ones

By: KK

Based on: Degrassi: The Next Generation

Summary: People are forced to deal with JT's death, and for some, the pressure's proving to be too much. Jumps from a lot of people's points of view. Based loosely on _Testing the Strong Ones,_ by Copeland.

**Chapter 1-Its Testing the Strong Ones**

The air was warm, rays of sun shining from the cloudless sky, a slight wind making it a perfect day. Nearly everyone was out walking it seemed, everyone taking in the good weather while it lasted, laughing, happy.

It was like they were mocking her.

Liberty sighed, her eyes burning with tears she wouldn't shed, _couldn't_ shed. All she could do was stare at all the people going about their business like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't died. Didn't any of them care? He hadn't done anything to deserve any of this. He was such a good person, had done so much good in his short life. There was so much more he could have done if he'd just lived. What he could have been. What they could have been.

At that thought her will broke, the tears slipping down her cheeks as her lip quivered, and she immediately averted her gaze, staring at the her hands tightly clasped. They were shaking, she realized distantly, remembering them covered with his blood. She'd tried so hard to help him, but just when he needed her, when he needed her help, her brain had quit. She couldn't think, she was petrified, could only scream for help, hadn't thought of anyway to help him. Save him.

Toby had told her what him and JT had been talking about, why he'd left. He was going after her. Maybe it was best he didn't get the chance. Liberty had seen Mia at the memorial, sobbing, holding Isabelle tightly. Like she'd die if it weren't for that little girl. Liberty regretted her decision to give up her baby boy more at that moment then she ever had before, craving some sort of comfort right now. Craving some piece of JT. As she cried, she knew it was still the best decision. He had a better life than she could have ever given him. She hadn't told anyone, but she'd been checking up on him periodically, and had made sure he had a good family.

She had been zoning, not noticing her hands were clenched into fists, her nails biting into her palms. She blinked and felt the pain, then loosed her grip, seeing small crescents of blood in indentions. She stared, feeling the warmth of the blood, but it was nothing compared to his. All over her hands, warm and sticky. She still imagined the smelled it everywhere, no matter how many showers she took, no matter how much she scrubbed. It wouldn't go away. That sickly-sweet, metallic smell.

She smelled it in her sleep, dreaming of long white corridors and the smell of disinfectant. She remembered everything about that night in her dreams, up until she found out he was dead. After that it was a blur. She remembered Toby finally managing to tell her in a cracking voice exactly what the doctor had said. How he had died. His voice had invaded her fog, then her body had quit on her. From others, she'd learned she was zombie like after that, but she had no recollection of any of it.

She pushed herself up from her seat by the window and wiped her face as she went, ignoring curious and concerned looks from other patrons at the small café near JT's home. They used to come here all the time, when they were dating. They'd fought her, broke up, made up, made promises, broken them, so much here. She could hardly stand the memories.

So why did she keep coming back?

She didn't know, she didn't think she'd ever know. It hurt so bad just to think of him, but it hurt more that she might someday forget him. Forget that he had always done what was best for her, always put her needs before his own. He had been there, loving her, even when she pushed him away; no matter how bad she treated him he never left her, just looked at her with that smile, and everything was okay.

She still believed, deep down, that he would somehow come back and make this okay, too, that he would find a way to still be there. He would find a way, because he knew she needed him. She always had. She needed him as bad as she loved him, and as she looked at the faces walking around, glancing curiously at the distraught girl, she was hit by his absence. She was hit, for the first time, by the fact that he wasn't one of these people walking down the road. He never would be again. He would never again smile at her, making a bad joke just to cheer her up, not matter what she did or said to him.

He would never get to see his Day Care idea be implemented. He wouldn't get to graduate. He would never see how much he meant to the whole school, how his life, and death, affected them. He never got to talk to his son. Now there was absolutely no way he ever would. He could have done so much more…

Liberty caught sight of herself in the reflection and froze, staring at her dead eyes. Her hands were bloody, and she smelled it on her clothes, hands, in her hair; she tasted it in her mouth. She saw his eyes staring at her, begging, shocked, pained, trying to say so much when his body wouldn't let him speak. She stumbled from the window, from him, and forward, running to her home. Sobbing, she avoided him as he stood at every corner, staring at her, a question in his dead, flinty eyes. He reached out with a bloody hand and she pulled away, running to her house and through the door, slamming it behind her and leaning against it as her body shook, slowly sliding to the floor.

"Goddamn you, JT." She whispered in a choked voice as she buried her head in her arms, glad no one else was home. She couldn't face anyone else right then.


	2. Scarring the Beautiful Ones

**Chapter 2-Scarring the Beautiful Ones**

Manny Santos stared at the ceiling, hearing the water running in the bathroom as Emma took a shower. She'd just got off the phone with Sean, they were going to the park to talk. Manny was glad Emma had Sean there for her, relieved Emma had someone to help her through this. Manny didn't want her to get sick again.

And right now, she wished she still had Craig. Even a coke-addicted Craig was better than no Craig, and right now she needed him. She needed someone to listen, someone to understand.

It was al her fault. She had thrown the party, had wanted one so bad. She was the reason those guys were there. If she had just not thrown the party, or had at least kept it small, those Lakehurst guys would have been nowhere near Emma's house, nowhere near JT. Tears sprang up to her eyes but she pushed them away as Emma got out of the shower, and Manny sucked in a shaky breath. Emma jogged out in a towel, grabbing clothes.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay here with you?" Emma asked for the tenth time in half an hour, casting worried eyes Manny's way. "I can have Sean come over here, or see him later." She offered, her eyes showing her concern for Manny, and a hint of her pain for JT. But in typical Emma fashion, she wouldn't talk about it to anyone. Except, Manny hoped, Sean, who was just as stubborn as Emma and would fight to get her to open up.

"It's fine." Manny forced a smile, waving her hand airily. "I already told you, go see your boyfriend, I'm gonna watch a sappy chick flick and eat ice cream." She said with a touch of sadness.

"Manny, you know this isn't your fault. They still would have hurt him, whether you had a party or not." Emma said, approaching and sitting in front of Manny, putting her hand on her best friends face. "You did nothing wrong, nothing you did could have changed it."

"I know, Emma." Manny lied. "Go to Sean, have fun. Someone should." She said the last part under her breath as Emma got up, finishing getting ready before running out, only after asking Manny one more time if she wanted her to stay.

After an hour, she pushed herself up and took a shower, considering following through on what she'd said to Emma, and actually watching a movie. But as she thought about the ice cream, the image of a hospital popped unbidden into her mind, the look of dread, of denial in Liberty's eyes as she demanded an answer she already knew, Toby's shock turning slowly to rocking sobs, echoing in the tight corridor, Manny stumbling blindly to them, holding tightly as they all huddled and cried.

The memory brought more tears to her red eyes, and she decided she couldn't hold down any food. It didn't sound good anyway. JT had been dead for five days now, and she had yet to eat. She couldn't. Nothing sounded at all appealing, and she doubted she could keep it down, and she was terrified she'd become bulimic if she didn't stop. But it was as though she couldn't control herself, and she slowly walked to the bed, sitting down and feeling dampness on her hands. She glanced down and realized she was crying again, and she rolled over on her side, curled up into a fetal position, tears streaming, pooling on the bed as the covers slowly absorbed them.

Nobody knew. Everyone was concerned, knowing she felt guilty, but no one knew the depth of it. Because she wasn't just guilty that she'd thrown the party, she felt as though it was her fault Liberty was like this. She might as well have pulled the trigger, she'd brought them to her home, she'd suggested the party, she hadn't kept it a secret, she hadn't warned JT the guys had been kicked out, she also had heard about Liberty's confession, which was why he was leaving, and she knew it was because her date-which was Manny's idea-hadn't clicked. She'd been feeling down, and so she talked to JT. It was Manny's fault al of it had happened.

And now she couldn't even build up the courage to call Liberty, to go see her and comfort her when her friend needed it the most. What kind of person was she? She takes the only thing good from someone, then can't even comfort them? Unable to stand it any longer, she pushed herself up and grabbed her glass, deciding to get a drink, but she felt dizzy from the sudden movement and fell, reflexively reaching her hands out in front of her to catch her fall, landing on the glass and shattering it, cutting her hand. She flinched at the pain, seeing blood quickly drop to the glass, and she jumped up, not wanting to bleed on the floor, and she went into the bathroom, running cold water over her bleeding hand and grabbing a towel, holding it to her wound.

The white fibers quickly turned red, and she kept checking it to see how it was, fishing for a bandage and wrapping her hand with gauze and a bandage as the blood loss slowed. When she was done she tossed the towel in the trash and went out to clean the glass up, stopping when she realized something.

She felt better, the pain something she could control. The only thing it felt like she could control lately. She glanced at her hand and rubbed it unconsciously, swallowing the lump in her throat. _No, you feel better because you were distracted, you stopped thinking about what happened for a minute. That's all,_ she assured herself silently, kneeling to clean it up as Emma came downstairs.

"Oh my god, Manny, what happened?" Emma asked, panic in her voice as Sean followed her.

"I'm so sorry, Emma, I broke your cup." Manny said. "I fell and-" She was cut off by Emma kneeling and grabbing her bandaged hand. She jerked back, wincing and hissing in pain.

"How bad is it? Are you okay? Maybe we should take you to a doctor-" Emma rambled, Manny silencing her with a look. "Are you okay?" Emma repeated.

"Yes, I just cut myself, it'll heal in a couple days. Now let's clean this up so no one gets hurt anymore, okay?" She said in her soothing voice, smiling at Emma in a reassuring way. As reassuring as she could be right now. Emma and her quickly cleaned up the rest of the glass, neither getting hurt, and Emma looked at Manny, uncertain. "What?" Manny asked suspiciously.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Emma asked honestly, putting her hand on Manny's shoulder. "I don't want to leave you alone if you're not okay."

"I'm fine, you can go. You don't have to baby me, Em, I'm fine." She stood. "Anyway, I'm gonna go for a walk, then I'm going to sleep." She said, grabbing a jacket and leaving, still feeling the bittersweet pain pulsing in her hand. Feeling Emma's stare on her back.


	3. Authors Note

Hey, this is just an author's note. I've already started the next chapter, I know they're all really short, I'll work on that if anyone's interested. But if anyone has any characters that they would like to see a chapter about, put it in a review and chances are I'll listen. I actually wrote this story the night the episode premiered, both chapters and part of chapter 3, and I just found it the other day and uploaded it without checking it over. So if there's any mistakes feel free to flame


	4. Its Holding the Loved Ones

**Author's Note:**

I know all the chapters are short, I'm gonna keep posting a bunch of short chapters as basicly introduction fpr each character, then I'll cycle back and do a second(and probably final) shapter for each person, the last chapter will probably be about everyone, not focusing on a single person like all the others. I'll update as often as possible, probably once or twice a week.

**Chapter 3-Its Holding the Loved Ones**

He was laying awake in bed, staring at the cieling, his throat dry, arms outstretcched. He swallowed, tried to push down the lump, his eyes glazed over, but not teary. His hands twitched, his breath hitched for a moment, a low, gutteral growl emitting from somewhere deep inside him. He was awake, his eyes half open, but he wasn't seeing anything. Wasn't feeling the freezing air from his fan, or hearing the trees branches scratching the window, or smelling the distinct smell of vodka. He knew it wasn't right, JT wouldn't want him to act like this. But it didn't matter what JT would have wanted, he wasn't here, he was gone, it didn't matter what Toby did. First Rick, now JT, it waas like something was wrong with him. He remembered a line from Romeo and Juliet, ironically it was the only line he knew, since he and JT had talked through the rest of the story.

_"Affliction is enamor'd of thy parts, and thou art wedded to calamity._"

He didn't remember who said it or why, but he knew the meaning, something he'd dismissed before. He knew what it was to feel like misery was always with him, hurting not him but everyone around him. In a way, he was causing it. To his own friends.

"_When you start thinking in Shakespearean, you know you have a problem."_ He could just hear JT teasing him about this. He imagined the way his eyes would light up even more than they already did, his face sliding easily into that familiar grin. JT was almost always smiling, and half the time he wasn't he was pushing back a laugh, the corners of his lips slightly turned up. It was like he found a joke in everything, and he shared it with everyone around him. If he hadn't been there, Degrassi wouldn't have had a tenth of the laughs. It was just the kind of person JT was, he looked past people's faces, and he helped people act how they always wanted.

Toby sat up, swinging his legs over and sitting with his feet on the ground, head in his hands. His eyesd went to the pile of photos in the middle of his floor. He'd dumped all the boxes under his bed, in his closet, all of his in the garage, and collected every picture of him and JT. He had sat for two days straight, refusing food, water, only stopping to go to the bathroom, just looking through all his photos, every one bringing back some kind of memory. But he never cried.

He hadn't cried since that night.

The tears just wouldn't come. But he could feel them building up, but no matter how hard he tried to cry, just wanting some kind of consolation, he couldn't. Because it was his fault.

He finally regained his senses, and finally he realized how strong the smell of vodka was. It covered the smell of pot. Jay had finally exhibited a use, and had given him a twenty sack for free, refusing Toby's offers of money, guilt obvious in his actions. It was like he wanted redemption, forgiveness for what he did to JT, and he was trying so hard to get it. Toby hadn't comforted him. JT would have.

JT was just so much better than him. Toby was always just the sidekick to JT, no matter how JT treated him. JT just had this way about him, it made everyone smile. He knew all the tricks to turn an all-out sob into a laugh, he'd proved it dozens of times. Once, when him and Toby were in the park, JT had turned down an offer by Paige to go with her to a party, so he could go comfort a complete stranger who was crying on a bench. That was just the kind of thing JT would do. Toby had just ignored her.

That was just the kind of thing _he_ did.

He grabbed a picture of JT, him, and Liberty from three years ago. They were all smiling, JT making bunny ears behind their heads. The lump in his throat grew, his fingers clenched the bottle of vodla so tight his knuckels were white, his hand holding the picture shaking. He dropped it and took a swig of the vodka, taking a few gulps, the burning liquid sliding down his throat and hitting his emoty stomach hard. It was gone.

Like JT.


End file.
